


Human Shield

by MrSpockify



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Non-Explicit, Peter Parker Whump, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 04:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20901554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSpockify/pseuds/MrSpockify
Summary: Mr. Stark always told him to stop sacrificing himself like an idiot, to stop throwing himself in harm’s way just to help other people. But maybe, just this once, Peter thought, Mr. Stark would make an exception.





	Human Shield

“Candy!”

Peter watched as Morgan ran across the bodega to the far wall, hands reaching up to pat at several different bags of sweets. He walked over to join her, crouching down beside her to have his own look at the treats. The adult thing to do would be to tell her no, since it was almost dinner and they just dropped by the store to grab some water.

But then again, Peter wasn’t an adult. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want candy, too.

“You can pick out _one_ thing, Mo,” he told her, holding up a single finger for emphasis. She pouted for half a second, but a bag of colorful, fruit-shaped sweets caught her eye and she turned her attention back to the wall of candy. Peter stood back up and glanced over the selection, considering what he should get himself. Maybe he’d buy something for Mr. Stark, too, so he could steal it later when the man inevitably ate two pieces then passed out cold.

Peter absently scratched at an itch on the back of his neck.

Sour skittles? Nah, his heightened senses made sour candy downright painful to eat now. Licorice? Ew. Gummy spiders? A bit too on-the-nose, probably.

He winced and rubbed the back of his neck again when the itch reappeared, stronger this time.

_Wait_.

Peter froze, a prickling sensation traveling from the back of his neck down his spine. He shivered and turned around. The store seemed fairly calm, only a couple other people in it besides himself and Morgan. An uneasy feeling continued to grow inside of him, and Peter was familiar enough with his senses to know something was definitely up. He slowly walked closer to the other patrons, trying his best to look like he was casually perusing the items at the end of an aisle.

A man approached the cashier with a packet of gum and slid it across the counter. His heartbeat was too fast, like he was anticipating something. Peter could feel the air growing thinner.

“That all?” The cashier asked, already ringing up the gum.

“No,” the man mumbled. He reached underneath his shirt for something.

All at once, the breath left Peter’s lungs and his muscles wound themselves up tightly, ready to jump into action. He _wanted_ to jump into action. But Spider-Man wasn’t here. It was just Peter.

He could only watch as the man pulled out a gun and pointed it at the cashier. She yelped in surprise and held her hands up, staring down into the barrel as it shook in her face.

“The money,” he ordered, artificially lowering his voice, maybe to sound scarier. He was nervous, Peter realized. He’d probably never done this before. The trembling trigger finger made the hair on Peter’s neck stand up, and he took a tentative step forward, warring with himself on whether or not to do something.

“Petey, look!” Morgan’s childish squeal interrupted his thoughts. He heard her heavy footsteps in the aisle over as she stomped up to the front of the store. It was the aisle closest to the cash register.

He watched as the man up front turned his gaze to the side, presumably seeing, in his dazed and anxious state, an unknown figure running up the aisle, straight at him.

_No. No, no, no, no, no._

The man’s body turned in self-defense, bringing along with it the barrel of the gun and pointing it down the aisle. Peter couldn’t even see how close Morgan was, couldn’t hear where she was over the blood rushing into his ears. He couldn’t tell how likely it was for the man to actually hit his target.

Peter’s body moved on instinct, some part of his brain working well enough to know he needed to move _now_. He heard two small clicks of a trigger being pulled. A loud bang of a gun going off, followed quickly by another. The sound of bullets ripping through fabric and muscle. Morgan’s scream faded into a high-pitched whine, and that’s the last thing he heard as his vision blacked out.

* * *

Peter had woken up in a hospital enough times to know what was going on as he regained consciousness. A soft beeping played out behind his head, unnaturally white fluorescence burned above him, both turned down low enough not to bother his senses. He let out a slow breath, allowing himself to get used to the soreness that had begun to spread across his body.

“Pete?” A soft and familiar voice called from across the room, and Peter waited for Tony to walk closer so he was in his line of sight above the bed. The man’s appearance was rumpled, like he had been running his hands through his hair and fretting for hours. Typical.

“Hey,” Peter croaked. A hand was instantly on the crown of his head, fingers lacing through his hair and scratching gently at his scalp. Tony looked sad. Guilty, almost. He leaned over the bed and pressed a kiss onto Peter’s forehead, lingering for just a moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice wet with emotion. Peter suddenly remembered why he was here.

“Morgan?” Peter asked quietly, watching as Tony pulled back and sniffed, clearly trying his damnedest to push back a wave of tears.

“She’s fine, kiddo,” he sighed. “Scared shitless, but totally fine, thanks to you.”

Peter hummed and let himself relax. He watched Tony look over him, eyes filled with shame and expression uneasy. He wondered briefly if Tony was just lying about his daughter to make Peter feel better. The thought made his stomach turn. There had been two gunshots, after all.

“You’re sure Morgan’s okay?”

Tony sighed. “Yeah, she’s really okay, I promise.”

“Are you?”

That made Tony pause. He looked away from the bed, and Peter saw the man put his fist in his pocket to hide his nervous tremor.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Tony whispered. Peter furrowed his brow.

“What for?”

It was another long moment before Tony continued, and when he did he turned his gaze to stare down at the sheets of the hospital bed. “You managed to find the one situation where I’m not mad at you for throwing yourself in front of a bullet. I can’t say I wish you hadn’t.”

“Oh.”

“I know, that sounds terrible.” Tony closed his eyes and breathed a long sigh out of his nose. Peter reached over and grabbed his hand, tugged it slightly to get the man to look at him.

“I get it,” he said. “It’s ok.”

“It doesn’t mean I love you less than her,” Tony added quickly, and Peter heard his heart speed up. He could hear the tremble in his voice as he tried to convey the sincerity without breaking apart, voice pushing past the knot in his throat threatening to break loose. Peter smiled.

“I know.”

Tony replaced the hand on Peter’s head, and they stayed like that for a while longer in comfortable silence. Soon there was a knock on the door and Pepper peaked her head in.

“Someone wanted to see you,” she said, opening the door a bit more to allow a small figure to sneak in. Morgan walked up to the bed and Tony lifted her so she sat next to Peter. She stared pointedly at her father and waited silently for him to take the hint.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Tony said, holding up his hands in surrender and walking to meet Pepper in the hallway.

Peter sat up as best as he could, trying not to wince every time he felt his stitches tug. Morgan waited for him patiently to settle in.

“Thanks for saving me,” she finally said, staring at his abdomen. Peter hadn’t seen the wounds yet, but he assumed that’s where they were.

“Hey, I’ll be good as new in a couple days.” He smiled, and it seemed to work because Morgan’s small shoulders relaxed a bit. A second later, she bit her lip and looked from side to side suspiciously.

“I… have something for you,” she whispered. Peter watched as he reached underneath the front of her shirt and pulled out a small, colorful item. She held it out to him.

“Is this,” he grinned, “a Spider-Man Pez dispenser?” He ran his fingers over the white eye lenses. He popped it open, and sure enough there was candy inside. He took one and laughed. “Mo, this is so cool.”

“I, um…” She glanced around again, then leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone. “_I stole it_.”

“What? Morgan!”

“Well, everyone was so distracted getting you into the ambulance.” She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “No one noticed.”

Peter looked down at the miniature hero in his palm again, resisting the urge to laugh. Tony Stark’s daughter was turning into a little criminal. Stealing Spider-Man knick-knacks, no less. That was going to be a fun conversation. He smiled anyway and pulled Morgan into his side for a hug.

“Thanks, Mo,” he said, opening up the little figurine to let her take a treat. She snuggled up next to him, and together they munched away at the stolen candy.


End file.
